Save Me From Myself
by absolutelyinsane
Summary: Just, I can't do this by myself. Not anymore. Liley. AU.


**Author's Note: **Allright, this is my first Liley fanfiction. It's a little different than most Liley fics. It's absolutely AU, and I'm still deciding wether Hannah's going to be in it or not. Hope you guys like it. .

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, If I did, I wouldn't be here right now.

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One.**

I take a long drag from the cigarette in my hand. I hold it in for a few seconds and wonder how long I can hold my breath in before suffocating to death-I finally let out my breath when I can't hold it in anymore, and throw the bud on the ground, crushing it with my black and white chucks. A fresh breath of air fills my lungs, sending a rush to my head. Ever feel that? When you hold your breath in too long, and when you finally let it out and breathe, you get this sort of dizzy feeling? It feels good, it feels real.

I pick up my forgotten backpack off the ground, and sling one strap over my shoulder. I hate school, but dropping out my senior year, really would be a waste of all those years I was forced to go. I play with my tongue ring as I walk down the hall to my class-only class worth coming to school for, Art.

I walk in and drop my backpack next to my seat, and am greeted with Mrs. Andrews's knowing face. Our relationship can be described in one word: Strange. I neither hate nor love Mrs. A-as I like to call her-but I do feel a sort of safeness around her. Of course I would never admit that to anyone, especially her. Mrs. A is a little taller than I am, ranging I'd say around 5'6. Her intense blue eyes shine clearly every time she looks at you-reads you-and her short gray hair frames her face perfectly. She's not married, I don't think. I wouldn't know any ways; she's never mentioned it before. She keeps her private life just that, private. We don't talk, she doesn't ask questions, and I don't answer them. I come in, do my work, and leave. That's the way it's always been, and that's the way it will always be.

I brush my bangs out of my eyes, and proceed to get my sketching notebook and the last of my favorite pencils out of my backpack-I leave myself a mental note to go by the store after school and buy a new pack. I start working on a drawing for our new art project, something about making up a character for a comic book or something. I'm not really sure; I've been tuning out almost everything the past week. I'm halfway through my first sketch-a girl who surprisingly looks a lot like me-when I feel the presence of someone sitting down next to me. No one ever does that, they should know better. The back table is for me alone--one kid learned the hard way at the beginning of the semester when I kicked the stool out from under him when he was about to sit down. OK, I admit, I'm kind of a loner. No one really messes with me--the outcast, the bad influence, the bad kid--and in turn I keep to myself. Now, I'm fully prepared to whip my head around and full on tell this intruder to fuck the Hell Off--maybe I do need anger management after all--when I am instantly paralyzed. I stare at the person in front of me, and can do nothing but blink my eyes, and open and close my mouth like some stupid fish. Now, I'm not the type of person to be easily impressed, dumbfounded or to just easily stop thinking like I did right now. But I assure you, it was for good reason. I continue to stare open-mouthed at the girl in front of me, and everything I knew flies out of my head. Somewhere deep inside my conscience, blinking red warning signs yelling _Danger! Danger!_ are now going off in my head, but I'm too stunned to notice.

"Hi, my name is Lilly, I'm new."

_Lilly_. I say that name over and over again in my head, until I notice _Lilly_ give me a weird look-apparently all I've done is stare at her all this time. I mentally slap myself, and open my mouth to introduce myself to her too-Hopefully I'll remember my name, I think I just forgot how to breathe.

"Miley. Name's Miley." I shake her hand, which she was still holding out for me. At least I remembered my name, but as soon as I think the worst is behind me, I instantly feel myself melt into a puddle of mud at the touch of her soft skin.

Wait a minute, instantly melt into a puddle of mud?  
The loner-bad-girl-takes-shit-from-nobody-break-your-face, Miley Stewart, melt into a puddle of mud within two seconds of meeting this girl. What the Fuck is going on with me.

Oh Fuck. I'm screwed.  
And I need a cigarette.

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Thanks for reading! Leave reviews telling me if you like it or not. They're greatly appreciated. . 


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